


After the sex

by kettykika78



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Damn Mycroft, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Missing Scene, POV First Person, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock in Denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29652777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettykika78/pseuds/kettykika78
Summary: There was also sex between us.Has this changed us?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 35





	After the sex

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people! ♥  
> Thanks to the invaluable help of alto_mumma's beta, I'm offering you my first ficlet!  
> ( Please go and give her your love ♥ here https://archiveofourown.org/users/alto_mumma/profile )  
> Thanks for the support you have given me so far for my fanarts!  
> I have found that some ideas fail to get out of my head in the form of pictures, so I have to write them down!  
> I'm Italian, so unfortunately I can't think and write like an Englishman.  
> This ficlet will also have a second part with the opposite POV.

No. It wasn't the sex that changed me. Us. One might think that overcoming the obstacle of intimacy between two people is like turning on a switch. But there are many ways to ignore what happened in retrospect. I can make myself delete things, overwrite, replace the actors of the moments I've lived.

The term Mind Palace can deceive those who have never used mnemonic techniques. For a simple mind, it is easy to imagine vaults in the corridors of a luxurious villa, or a filing cabinet to consult an ethereal library. But for me, these are familiar places, people, sensory stimuli that have the role of driving the simulations of actions. Thanks to data that functions as fuel, my mind is like a racing engine.

My mind has always been my main resource, my pride, my damnation. Since I was a child I have recognized how this was the element of distinction between me and everyone else. Except Mycroft, damn it. No, don't put parents in the equation, Nietzsche is boring. Mycroft's mind has always surpassed me, because he has always been able to handle any problem related to the goldfish he was dealing with, and has always enjoyed managing anyone's relationships. He can predict people's behavior and outcomes way better than me, such that his capacity to manipulate is at top level, Demiurg like. Following Mycroft's method of walking the world was not for me, but the basic concept has helped me since I was a child. Caring was not an advantage. And Redbeard's case was a painful reminder for me. Yes, I asked Mycroft to tell me that word whenever I would come near to a sentimental disaster. I suppose he could use it during the wedding day. Damn him! 

But no, I wouldn't delete that heated intercourse during the stag night. After our dancing lessons, that was the moment I felt his undeniable affection for me on my skin. I cannot delete it. His mouth on my skin, his taste, all blurred and heated, still so intense, heart shattering, something I had never felt before. I will treasure it. 

Nonetheless… 

I denied to him the meaning of that night. 

"It was a fling, a little legover cheating during the stag do, a repressed need to deal with before the wedding. Who could be better to do it with than your best mate? I'm your best man. I'm here to help you. It will never come up in the future. You can trust me." 

He was somewhat taken aback, but it was for the best. The best for him. 

I cannot – I would not – let myself be ruled by sentiments. This is who I am. Sherlock Holmes: High Functioning Sociopath. I made myself! Alone is what I am. Readbeard’s loss teaches me my weakness. I'm too vulnerable, too sensitive when I lose my armour. 

So, it will be. The case of Watson's wedding will be over soon, I just need to wait until that hideous notion of a sex holiday will finish so we will be finally ok. The two of us against the rest of the world, like before. Well, except the flatmates bit. 

And Mary said that she would let us be. I want to have a happy blogger by my side, so I choose to believe her. 

“Yes, it will be fine. 

Sure John. 

Fine.” 


End file.
